


A Different Wall.

by Humbuggy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Drabble, Gen, Other, Plot? What Plot?, mythical creatures, the cannonical universe but with mythical creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humbuggy/pseuds/Humbuggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short drabble about Jon Snow's new companions in the knights watch.</p>
<p>Not all are theives, murders or the depraved; some had nowhere else to go, and for others, it was where they could find purpose and a brotherhood without sleeping in a hole in a forest with one eye open at all times. Because despite the differences between man and Otherbeing, some things remained constant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Wall.

**Author's Note:**

> A really short drabble without any plot, but I started writing it and couldn't be bothered to continue.
> 
> Enjoy this? Feel free to borrow it yourself to expand on it.

 

The wind bites at Jon's cheeks. It peppers icy kisses, sharp as arrow points, across his skin. He huffs into his gloved hands, snug but still freezing in their fur coverings, shrugs deeper into his clock, and resumes staring out at the darkness of the night beyond the wall, feeling as unbalanced and out of place as a foal taking its first steps on the wooden planks of a boat.

"Fucking miserable night." A man growls beside him, hacking in his throat and spitting into the brazier. Jon can only nod as he moves closer to the fire.

There's the scrape of a cloven hoof on the ice and Jon turns to look at Chethen, who shudders in his thick sheepskin furs. Tapping one of his cloven hooves on the ice, he huddles on the closest thing to a seat on top of the wall.

"I have no idea why any one thought that they should stick me up here. Fauns are even less equipped for snow and ice than centaurs, and they've got four hooves." he complains.

"Then why did you join? Jon asks, looking at him.

"Protection." the faun shrugs. "Not everyone in Westros is like your father, most people fear us, and some hunt us, or don't like us around. The Night's Watch look after their own, even if it's a bloody miserable place to be. I was handy enough with an axe that when the recruiters moved through the fief in which I was in, I decided to join up. Better than sleeping in a hole in the forest with one eye open all the time."

The faun flicked one goat like ear, listening to something Jon could not hear. "Change of the watch." He said, "Let’s grab some food where it's warm."

If Jon had been less cold, less hungry and unsteady, then perhaps he would have marvelled at the new companions he found himself with.

Otherbeings were still few in number on the wall, but a more common sight than elsewhere in Westros. The humanoids were the only Otherbeings on the wall, having the intelligence and the ability to talk, fight, take orders and obey oaths.

Jon had seen a few Otherbeings when he was at Winterfell, because his father was never known to turn away an Otherbeing from his the walls of Winterfell. Jon, Robb, Theon and some of the other men had been taught archery, the finer points of horse riding and fighting from horseback from the centaur, Daris, who was a blacksmith and a horse breaker, when he had stayed with them for six moons. Before leaving, Daris has taught Theon how to use a bow on horseback and given Jon a sword for his fourteenth name day.  
“Those who are frowned upon in this world must stick together, Jon. Remember, trust your sword, and keep your arm strong. Beings like me and men like you will always need a good sharp blade.” He’d said, leaning down  to look Jon in the eye, “The only person who can every make you feel low is yourself.” He had looked at Jon until Jon had nodded at him, before turning away, tail swishing behind him.

There were a few centaurs on the wall, some with thick, heavy set bodies and the horse quarters of big destriers or dray horses, others were shorter with the horse quarters of garrons, thickly furred and stocky. Fauns like Chethen were uncommon, even off the wall, preferring to keep to the deep woodland forests further south. Minotaur’s were spread across the wall, swift and strong, about one to every twenty five men. They were not looked upon fondly in many places; the wall was one place where they were sure to find battles and comrades with which to be brothers in arms.

Many Otherbeings were rare, long hunted to non-existence, or simply having died out in the ages past. Dragons were one such creature, as were a great many others. Phoenixes were so rare there was only a sighting every forty years. Griffins were similar, tending to keep to high mountain passes and uninhabited places. Unicorns were more of a legend than anything else. Krakens were a myth anywhere but on the sea. Wild winged horses were rare; herds of them would live near mountains with open swathes of grass. Domesticated ones, smaller and tamer than their wild cousins, were prised and through difficult, carefully bred. The Vale of Arryn mounted only the best knights on them, and they were the swiftest messengers when a raven would simply not suffice. He knew that the Dornish bred a carefully guarded herd and a small number of the animals were maintained for Royal use as messengers. Jon himself had seen a winged horse only twice, his father had not kept any; there had never been enough call for them in Winterfell.

Ghost presses close to Jon’s leg as the wooden cage travels down the face of the wall, and Chethen shudders as he stays as far away as the small cage allows.

“Your wolf makes me bloody nervous, Snow. “

Jon twitches a small smile. “Goat instincts.”

“Until you proven that he doesn’t want to eat my legs, I like my goat instincts just fine.”

He laughs low in his throat in response, and twines his fingers in Ghost’s thick ruff, scratching behind the direwolf’s ear.

“He won’t. Not unless he’s hungry.”

“Keep him fed then, and I’m sure we’ll be fine friends.” Chethen japes with crooked grin.

And the cage continued to rattle downwards.

 


End file.
